I know this is going to come as a complete and utter shock to you, but three of the best players in college football are in trouble.

Two have been indefinitely suspended; another is out for at least two games. All continue to reap the benefits of being able to play a game – it’s just a game, people—better than the poor saps below them on the depth chart who would have been dismissed for less.

Carlos Hyde has been suspended indefinitely. (AP Photo)

Yet here’s the strangest part of this sad, sordid story: Even with the heightened awareness of late of athletes and their poor behavior, these guys still think they’re bulletproof.

They’re just college kids. They’re just 20 years old. They’re just doing what every other student at every other university does—only they’re under a microscope like no other.

“I guess if you know you’re under a microscope,” says Georgia quarterback Aaron Murray, “you should act like you’re under a microscope.”

LSU running back Jeremy Hill punched a man in the head outside of a bar, and the brutal video of the event is circulating on the Internet. It’s the second time in less than two years Hill has been arrested and convicted of a crime, including carnal knowledge of a 14-year-old girl.

Yeah, these three fine, upstanding young men deserve a free college education and elite coaching staffs to get them ready for the NFL—where they’ll pander to them even more, pay them outrageous salaries and summarily throw them away when they’re of no use anymore.

At what point does it sink in? At what point do these guys realize less than five percent of college football players make it to the NFL? Even less have an extended career; most are out in less than four years.

At what point does player behavior away from the field become just as important as player performance on it?

“My uncle always told me, don’t ever do anything to bring shame to your family name,” said Alabama quarterback AJ McCarron. “I’ve always remembered that. To me, that’s the most important thing. The rest of this stuff comes and goes.”

So while the college football narrative focuses on NCAA compliance and player stipends and how to share all that television money, putting a new shade of lipstick on the pig simply allows us to lose sight of the mud in the pen.

If the tragedy in Boston with Aaron Hernandez taught us anything, it’s this: You’re not doing anyone any good by ignoring bad behavior. At the very least, you’re hurting the player with bad behavior.

At the very worst, he eventually hurts someone else.

Look, I understand the concept of second chances. Ticky-tack stuff happens all the time in college, and most of those problems can be overcome.

But when you’re dealing with physical assault—with a player whose body is at peak physical condition because of the training he receives at a university—there’s no excuse to ignore a significant warning sign.

We can go through all the machinations of Ohio State and coach Urban Meyer and his history of dealing with troubled players at Florida. Who cares?

In this instance, Meyer could have taken a bold step: eliminated a problem from his team and sent a message to the rest of his players. Too bad that’s the minority reaction in sports these days.

Why, in this society we’ve built, are we afraid to call a bad dude a bad dude? Why are we so willing to give second and third chances instead of taking a stand against young men who think they’re entitled to something—anything—because they’re faster and more athletic than the next?